CHAPTER IX.
A CITIZEN OF THE RUE DU TEMPS PERDU.
During this time D'Harmental was seated before the spinet, playing hisbest. The shopkeeper had had a sort of conscience, and had sent him aninstrument nearly in tune, so that the chevalier began to perceive thathe was doing wonders, and almost believed he was born with a genius formusic, which had only required such a circumstance to develop itself.Doubtless there was some truth in this, for in the middle of a brilliantshake he saw, from the other side of the street, five little fingersdelicately raising the curtain to see from whence this unaccustomedharmony proceeded. Unfortunately, at the sight of these fingers thechevalier forgot his music, and turned round quickly on the stool, inhopes of seeing a face behind the hand.
This ill-judged maneuver ruined him. The mistress of the little room,surprised in the act of curiosity, let the curtain fall. D'Harmental,wounded by this prudery, closed his window. The evening passed inreading, drawing, and playing. The chevalier could not have believedthat there were so many minutes in an hour, or so many hours in a day.At ten o'clock in the evening he rang for the porter, to give orders forthe next day; but no one answered; he had been in bed a long time, andD'Harmental learned that there were people who went to bed about thetime he ordered his carriage to pay visits.
D'HARMENTAL--Page 247.]
This set him thinking of the strange manners of that unfortunate classof society who do not know the opera, who do not go to supper-parties,and who sleep all night and are awake all day. He thought you must cometo the Rue du Temps Perdu to see such things, and promised himself toamuse his friends with an account of this singularity. He was glad tosee also that his neighbor watched like himself. This showed in her amind superior to that of the vulgar inhabitants of the Rue du TempsPerdu. D'Harmental believed that people only watched because they didnot wish to sleep, or because they wanted to be amused. He forgot allthose who do so because they are obliged. At midnight the light in theopposite windows was extinguished; D'Harmental also went to his bed. Thenext day the Abbe Brigaud appeared at eight o'clock. He broughtD'Harmental the second report of secret police. It was in these terms:
"Three o'clock, A.M.
"In consequence of the regular life which he led yesterday, the regent has given orders to be called at nine.
"He will receive some appointed persons at that time.
"From ten to twelve there will be a public audience.
"From twelve till one the regent will be engaged with La Vrilliere and Leblanc.
"From one to two he will open letters with Torcy.
"At half-past two there will be a council, and he will pay the king a visit.
"At three o'clock he will go to the tennis court in the Rue du Seine, to sustain, with Brancas and Canillac, a challenge against the Duc de Richelieu, the Marquis de Broglie, and the Comte de Gace.
"At six he will go to supper at the Luxembourg with the Duchesse de Berry, and will pass the evening there.
"From there he will come back, without guards, to the Palais Royal, unless the Duchesse de Berry gives him an escort from hers."
"Without guards, my dear abbe! what do you think of that?" saidD'Harmental, beginning to dress; "does it not make your mouth water?"
"Without guards, yes," replied the abbe; "but with footmen, outriders, acoachman--all people who do not fight much, it is true, but who cry veryloud. Oh! patience, patience, my young friend. You are in a great hurryto be a grandee of Spain."
"No, my dear abbe, but I am in a hurry to give up living in an atticwhere I lack everything, and where I am obliged to dress myself alone,as you see. Do you think it is nothing to go to bed at ten o'clock, anddress in the morning without a valet?"
"Yes, but you have music," replied the abbe.
"Ah! indeed!" replied D'Harmental. "Abbe, open my window, I beg, thatthey may see I receive good company. That will do me honor with myneighbors."
"Ho! ho!" said the abbe, doing what D'Harmental asked; "that is not badat all."
"How, not bad?" replied D'Harmental; "it is very good, on the contrary.It is from Armida: the devil take me if I expected to find that in thefourth story of a house in the Rue du Temps Perdu."
"Chevalier, I predict," said the abbe, "that if the singer be young andpretty, in a week there will be as much trouble to get you away as thereis now to keep you here."
"My dear abbe," said D'Harmental, "if your police were as good as thoseof the Prince de Cellamare, you would know that I am cured of love for along time, and here is the proof. Do not think I pass my days insighing. I beg when you go down you will send me something like a pate,and a dozen bottles of good wine. I trust to you. I know you are aconnoisseur; besides, sent by you, it will seem like a guardian'sattention. Bought by me, it would seem like a pupil's debauch; and Ihave my provincial reputation to keep up with Madame Denis."
"That is true. I do not ask you what it is for, but I will send it toyou."
"And you are right, my dear abbe. It is all for the good of the cause."
"In an hour the pate and the wine will be here."
"When shall I see you again?"
"To-morrow, probably."
"Adieu, then, till to-morrow."
"You send me away."
"I am expecting somebody."
"All for the good of the cause?"
"I answer you, go, and may God preserve you."
"Stay, and may the devil not get hold of you. Remember that it was awoman who got us turned out of our terrestrial paradise. Defy women."
"Amen," said the chevalier, making a parting sign with his hand to theAbbe Brigaud.
Indeed, as the abbe had observed, D'Harmental was in a hurry to see himgo. The great love for music, which the chevalier had discovered onlythe day before, had progressed so rapidly that he did not wish hisattention called away from what he had just heard. The little which thathorrible window allowed him to hear, and which was more of theinstrument than of the voice, showed that his neighbor was an excellentmusician. The playing was skillful, the voice sweet and sustained, andhad, in its high notes and deep vibrations, something which awoke ananswer in the heart of the listener. At last, after a very difficult andperfectly executed passage, D'Harmental could not help clapping hishands and crying bravo! As bad luck would have it, this triumph, towhich she had not been accustomed, instead of encouraging the musician,frightened her so much, that voice and harpsichord stopped at the sameinstant, and silence immediately succeeded to the melody for which thechevalier had so imprudently manifested his enthusiasm.
In exchange, he saw the door of the room above (which we have said ledon to the terrace) open, and a hand was stretched out, evidently toascertain what kind of weather it was. The answer of the weather seemedreassuring, for the hand was almost directly followed by a head coveredby a little chintz cap, tied on the forehead by a violet ribbon; and thehead was only a few instants in advance of a neck and shoulders clothedin a kind of dressing-gown of the same stuff as the cap. This was notquite enough to enable the chevalier to decide to which sex theindividual, who seemed so cautious about exposing himself to the morningair, belonged. At last, a sort of sunbeam having slipped out between twoclouds, the timid inhabitant of the terrace appeared to be encouraged tocome out altogether. D'Harmental then saw, by his black velvetknee-breeches, and by his silk stockings, that the personage who hadjust entered on the scene was of the masculine gender.
It was the gardener of whom we spoke. The bad weather of the precedingdays had, without doubt, deprived him of his morning walk, and hadprevented him from giving his garden his ordinary attention, for hebegan to walk round it with a visible fear of finding some accidentproduced by the wind or rain; but, after a careful inspection of thefountain, the grotto, and the arbor, which were its three principalornaments, the excellent face of the gardener was lighted by a ray ofjoy, as the weather was by the ray of sun. He perceived, not only thateverything was in its p
lace, but that the reservoir was full tooverflowing. He thought he might indulge in playing his fountain, atreat which, ordinarily, following the example of Louis XIV., he onlyallowed himself on Sundays. He turned the cock, and the jet raiseditself majestically to the height of four or five feet. The good man wasso delighted that he began to sing the burden of an old pastoral songwhich D'Harmental had heard when he was a baby, and, while repeating--
"Let me go And let me play Beneath the hazel-tree,"
he ran to the window, and called aloud, "Bathilde! Bathilde!"
The chevalier understood that there was a communication between therooms on the third and fourth stories, and some relation between thegardener and the musician, and thought that perhaps if he remained atthe window she would not come on to the terrace; therefore he closed hiswindow with a careless air, taking care to keep a little opening behindthe curtain, through which he could see without being seen. What he hadforeseen happened. Very soon the head of a charming young girl appearedon the terrace; but as, without doubt, the ground, on which he hadventured with so much courage, was too damp, she would not go anyfurther. The little dog, not less timid than its mistress, remained nearher, resting its white paws on the window, and shaking its head insilent denial to every invitation. A dialogue was established betweenthe good man and the young girl, while D'Harmental had leisure toexamine her at ease.
She appeared to have arrived at that delicious time of life when woman,passing from childhood to youth, is in the full bloom of sentiment,grace, and beauty. He saw that she was not less than sixteen nor morethan eighteen years of age, and that there existed in her a singularmixture of two races. She had the fair hair, thick complexion, andgraceful neck of an English woman, with the black eyes, coral lips, andpearly teeth of a Spaniard.
As she did not use either rouge or white, and as that time powder wasscarcely in fashion, and was reserved for aristocratic heads, hercomplexion remained in its natural freshness, and nothing altered thecolor of her hair.
The chevalier remained as in an ecstasy--indeed, he had never seen buttwo classes of women. The fat and coarse peasants of the Nivernais, withtheir great feet and hands, their short petticoats, and theirhunting-horn shaped hats; and the women of the Parisian aristocracy,beautiful without doubt, but of that beauty fagged by watching andpleasure, and by that reversing of life which makes them what flowerswould be if they only saw the sun on some rare occasions, and thevivifying air of the morning and the evening only reached them throughthe windows of a hot-house. He did not know this intermediate type, ifone may call it so, between high society and the country people, whichhad all the elegance of the one, and all the fresh health of the other.Thus, as we have said, he remained fixed in his place, and long afterthe young girl had re-entered, he kept his eyes fixed on the windowwhere this delicious vision had appeared.
The sound of his door opening called him out of his ecstasy: it was thepate and the wine from Abbe Brigaud making their solemn entry into thechevalier's garret. The sight of these provisions recalled to his mindthat he had now something better to do than to abandon himself tocontemplation, and that he had given Captain Roquefinette a rendezvouson the most important business. Consequently he looked at his watch, andsaw that it was ten o'clock. This was, as the reader will remember, theappointed hour. He sent away the man who had brought the provisions, andsaid he would lay the cloth himself; then, opening his window once more,he sat down to watch for the appearance of Captain Roquefinette.
He was hardly at his observatory before he perceived the worthy captaincoming round the corner from the Rue Gros-Chenet, his head in the air,his hand on his hip, and with the martial and decided air of a man who,like the Greek philosopher, carries everything with him. His hat, thatthermometer by which his friends could tell the secret state of itsmaster's finances, and which, on his fortunate days was placed asstraight on his head as a pyramid on its base, had recovered thatmiraculous inclination which had so struck the Baron de Valef, andthanks to which, one of the points almost touched his right shoulder,while the parallel one might forty years later had given Franklin, ifFranklin had known the captain, the first idea of his electric kite.
Having come about a third down the street, he raised his head as hadbeen arranged, and saw the chevalier just above him. He who waited, andhe who was waited for, exchanged nods, and the captain having calculatedthe distance at a glance, and recognized the door which ought to belongto the window above, jumped over the threshold of Madame Denis's poorlittle house with as much familiarity as if it had been a tavern. Thechevalier shut the window, and drew the curtains with the greatestcare--either in order that his pretty neighbor might not see him withthe captain, or that the captain might not see her.
An instant afterward D'Harmental heard the sound of his steps, and thebeating of his sword against the banisters. Having arrived at the thirdstory, as the light which came from below was not aided by any lightfrom above, he found himself in a difficulty, not knowing whether tostop where he was, or mount higher. Then, after coughing in the mostsignificant manner, and finding that this call remained unnoticed--
"Morbleu!" said he. "Chevalier, as you did not probably bring me here tobreak my neck, open your door or call out, so that I may be guidedeither by the light of heaven, or by the sound of your voice; otherwiseI shall be lost, neither more nor less than Theseus in the labyrinth."
And the captain began to sing in a loud voice--
"Fair Ariadne, I beg of you, Help me, by lending me your clew. Toutou, toutou, toutaine, toutou!"
The chevalier ran to his door and opened it.
"My friend," said the captain, "the ladder up to your pigeon-house isinfernally dark; still here I am, faithful to the agreement, exact tothe time. Ten o'clock was striking as I came over the Pont-Neuf."